Glass
by Nekrocake
Summary: Subaru gets a strange visit in the middle of the night, only a day after he's just moved back to Tokyo. But why is he acting so strangely, and what could this possibly mean? One-shot.


_A/N: So it's been quite a while since I've written much of anything, let alone a fan fiction. Any inaccuracies or errors, I apologize. I don't own these characters, nor would I be crazy enough to attempt earning profit off of them._  
><em>I imagined this to take place shortly after Subaru arrives in Tokyo and settles in.<em> _Hope you enjoy it!_

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><p>How had Seishirou gotten in here? He genuinely couldn't remember feeling the man's presence, let alone his Onmyoujutsu. He was also extremely quiet, when he normally preferred to antagonize poor Subaru-kun upon meeting him. This lead Subaru to believe this wasn't real…<p>

However, before he could voice an opinion, the taller man carefully raised his hand to the left of him. In a fluid motion, Seishirou positioned his hand directly above the table there, just behind a glass vase holding a fake arrangement, and Subaru had little time to react as Seishirou pushed the vase onto the floor in front of them.

It shattered in, metaphorically Subaru thought, thousands of pieces, each shard varying in size and width, making imperfect minuscule knives. He flinched indistinctly, but had kept his gaze upon the other man, his brow furrowing in confusion. What is he doing? All the while, Seishirou never stops smiling. Nor does he take his eyes off the Onmyouji before him.

What is he up to now, Subaru asks himself. "Why" he breathes, trailing off, feeling a question would be futile at this point. Fragment (consider revising) He's never known the assassin to be disrespectful of one's belongings, let alone _his_. They were just material subjects.

Subaru's eyes widened ever-so-slightly as the older man began to step forward. A fleeting emotion of panic, followed by curiosity panned over Subaru's face, noticing Seishirou was not wearing shoes. With a grim expression, he reached out a hand in an effortless motion to halt the other.

"Seishirou-san, don't!" What more could he do? Without a doubt, he could not physically stop the man, not in this close proximity. He had been caught off guard at any rate, not sure how to approach the situation at present.

He glanced down at the floor, where the tiny, glinting remains looked accusingly at him, as though he were the one responsible for their existence. His head shot back up to meet those mismatched eyes, that cold, uncaring, familiar stare once more. He couldn't bear to watch Seishirou do this to himself, he reluctantly hated to admit. Another thing Subaru couldn't have thought possible was that the man would purposefully hurt himself for, what the younger man believed, absolutely no reason at all.

He cringed, and if it were even possible for Subaru to frown any more, the corners of his mouth drew further downward, as he heard the first _crunch _while Seishirou took, at long last, one more giant (Or what had seemed like an impossibly long) step forward.

"Don't" his voice choked, eyes growing wide yet again. He could have sworn Seishirou's mouth twitched in the slightest regard to a smile. "Why the hell are you doing this?" Subaru demanded, finally finding voice to his words.

Another step forward. "Tell me!" He almost growled, brow creasing, anger rising.

Ever since Seishirou had intruded Subaru's quarters, he had never broken his eye contact. He just continued his agonizingly slow trek forward, amusement playing across his face. Oh, how cute and desperate the boy looked, with all these emotions displayed upon his visage for Seishirou to dwell in. He decided to walk the rest of his way at a more normal pace, now.

Unsure of how to receive the Sakurazukamori's presence closing in on him, all Subaru could think to do was take a few steps backward.

"Don't" he repeated. "Don't come any closer!" The silence was maddening now. Coming to his senses, he prepared to build a defense. "Say something" he muttered.

"Say something, tell me… Anything!" Frustrated, he raised his voice, searching for that social interaction of wordplay Seishirou was always so fond of. Cold eyes and a mouth made to disturb him was all he got in return for the moment. Then he finally spoke aloud.

"I did it for _you_, Subaru-kun." Seishirou tilted his head slightly when he formed the younger boy's name on his lips, the faintest of smiles tugging at the corners. How will he receive it, Seishirou ponders, awaiting a reply.

Another game? Subaru thinks. Another ungrateful, selfish game? "No," he shakes his head slowly, keeping their eyes locked.

"'No'?" Seishirou muses, still entertained.

"Enough of this. Of your games, of your fucking with my head- All of it! I at least deserve some of my sanity, what little I can't ever hardly begin to retain. You can't just mess with me again. I won't allow it this time." He stood his ground, straightening himself to peer right into those conflicting, burning eyes.

Funny, how one minute those eyes are cold as ice, then the next they bore into you like hot coals. But that was never a good sign. No, that meant the beast had been satisfied. But how so…?

Unfortunately, he immediately let Subaru know. "Subaru-kun, I'm _shocked_. You know you mean the _world _to me." He lifted his arms from his sides, symbolizing "the world" with an odd emphasis.

"I know you don't give a _damn _about the world. " Subaru spurts back. "Frankly, I'm tired of your lies, and grow weary of your presence." Glaring daggers, he watches the other man feign alarm and hurt, maybe even rejection, if the Sakurazukamori had ever cared about such trivial things.

Which they didn't, and there would be no exception for Seishirou. "All these years of avoiding me, and that's all you have to welcome me?" He inquires, looking at Subaru with a troubled expression. Subaru almost remembers the time back when he was sixteen, when Hokuto-chan was still alive and Seishirou-san "loved" him. When he would fake indignant rejection quite like this, whenever Subaru shyly, but politely declined him.

Also like those wonderful days, built on lies and deceit, the older man reached out toward Subaru, to touch him. For reasons unknown to him, Subaru found himself frozen instantly, as Seishirou took his right hand in his. All he could do was watch Seishirou cradle his gloved hand. He intently looked over it as delicately as a man with blood on his name could.

He pressed the warm hand lightly to his face, the inverted pentagram reacting to its master's touch. "Even with this mark I engraved into your being years past, I still love you, you know." And he smirked, beginning to remove his glove.

Subaru breathed silently, his mind was a whirlwind of words and emotion, yet he was still unable to move. His feet planted in the ground, unmoving in time. There was utterly no chance Subaru could believe him. He was unable to retract his hand, or his body, from the Sakurazukamori's hold. Seishirou's spell was cast. But it was not the work of Onmyoujutsu. It was a haunting, psychical spell that the younger man reluctantly could _not _resist.

Finally, removing the glove fitted to Subaru's hand, he dropped it to the floor, caressing the pale skin underneath against his cheek, all the while watching Subaru's horror in the closest sense of pleasure without actually feeling anything. Drinking in the reaction, he slowly touched the index finger to his tongue.

The Onmiyouji's eyes narrowed and he sneered, jerking his hand away. The spell seemingly broken, Subaru opened his mouth only to shut it again. No words he could comprehend escaped his lips. At that moment Seishirou began to… Float backwards.

His voice caught in his throat. "Seishirou-san?" He questioned, blinking a few times in bewilderment. But he couldn't react in time. All he witnessed before him was that familiar flutter of sakura petals. The smell overcame his senses, and the last of Seishirou's physical form that registered to him was that damned unemotional smirk. He took a few steps forward, glancing around. "Seishirou-san," he gasped.

_Crunch_.

He looked down at his feet, and for the first time, took in the remnants of partially bloodstained foot prints. Instinctively, he allowed his emotions to get the better of him for the first time in a very long time, since somewhat recovering from the events which transpired in Tokyo years before.

Clenching his hands into fists, he gritted his teeth, the scent of the pink flowery aroma no longer invading the room, signaling the other man's absence. He shook for a few moments before finally calming, his shoulders drooping in defeat. There was no use in ruining the progress he'd made in previous years by getting worked up about the Sakurazukamori's appearance now. There would be plenty more times when he'd get to see Seishirou, he knew it.

A single tear arose from his glassy eyes as his surroundings began to blur, then faded from gray, to complete darkness.

When he awoke, he was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He sat up slowly and wiped away a tear he thought only occurred in the dream. "Seishirou-san" he murmured.

He lazily glanced around the room, muted moonlight dimly pouring onto the floor. He lifts his hands to look at their backs. They were no longer gloved. What would be the reason to hide them now? The spell on them still strong, they glowed faintly in the dimness of the room.

After a few moments pondering the dream and its meaning (Had it been a premonition of sorts? Why would he be hurting himself on _broken glass _for _me? _And why on earth would he have been so gentle? Why should I be wearing the gloves I discarded a few years before?), he threw the covers off of him, swinging his legs around to the side of the bed.

He fumbled for his pack of cigarettes on the end table next to his mattress. Remembering he finished the last of them before he fell asleep, he reluctantly rose to his feet. The floor was hard and cold, but he was on a mission. At least my cigarettes should coax me back to sleep, he thought, grabbing his coat and heading toward the door.

"Ow" he gasped, stepping back. He gazed upon the floor in front of him, squinting in the dark; his eye caught a gleaming crystal. Upon further inspection, he found there to be more. The shards were sprawled across his floor.

He darted to the door, turning on the lights. Looking back, he saw the same scene in his dream, excluding the specks of bloody footprints. He let out a sigh and rubbed his temple. Guess this would be another long, sleepless night.


End file.
